


The Grand Keep: The Curse of Larkquieanst

by xx_bleak_xx



Series: The Grand Keep [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Original Character(s), Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23418787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xx_bleak_xx/pseuds/xx_bleak_xx
Summary: Emmeria Dyanthre has found herself chosen, over all others to be the subject Apprentice to the regal, headstrong Prince Sire of Larkquieanst, Caspen. Through argument, distrust, affection, and care Emmeria begins to undertake and adapt to her role at Caspen's side, falling victim to his capriciousness that lingers over his judgement. Because of Caspen's and Emmeria combined sublime status, the two prepare for their new adventure, their emending sark betrayal and conflicting of sworn allies, as well as the resolute love that will bring them together stronger than ever. Will Emmeria and Caspen rise to the occasion against enemies and scorn, or will they lend a hand in their cherished home of Larkquieanst's demise?
Series: The Grand Keep [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684561





	The Grand Keep: The Curse of Larkquieanst

The long, golden, light-saturated streets surrounding the Grand-State Imperial Keep were deserted like usual, their bright reflection timid against the wooden buildings built along their corners. The beautiful inlay of red and blue in the abodes a perfect contrast to the Sapele wood, an image I had begun to miss from my time abroad outside of the Keep. 

Stretching, I removed my hands from behind my back, palms facing up high towards the scalding rays of the sun and the numerous faint clouds comforting it. I sigh, relaxed my shoulders and glanced over at the odd, brick-laid patterns that were sparsely accompanied by the few Ethiains who roamed nearby.

It seemed like forever since I had a break from duties, and forever since anyone else had maybe even an hour to themselves in the area. To add, it seemed as if the Grand State Imperial Keep and The Church had been taken aback by the number of  _ incidents _ , (if I have the pleasure of calling them that) that had begun to occur outside of the Keep, and beyond. More Sire’s and Apprentices of all sorts had been dispatched. At first it was done slowly. Though, the small but rough indents marked on the golden streets were enough of an example of the hastiness in which they had begun to leave in. 

A faint call interrupted my ever-late theorization, the neighing of a horse present far in the background. I turned to hear quick hooves stomping the ground behind me. The growing gallop eventually suppressing to a halt, where a young man wearing a dark blue cloak sat atop the steed, who immediately began to clear his voice. 

“Her ye, her ye!” 

The few Ethiains, citizen of Larkquieanst near me shuffle to the sides of the streets, some even began to bow at his presence. I stood straight up like an Apprentice of the 3rd Imperial Class would, simply obeying the call. I’d done these many times before and I knew the likely followed procedure. My right-hand grasped the hilt of my sword, and my left hand rested firmly across my temple, and I stood silent. 

The young man mounted on the horse smirked from under the gaze of his hood. He began once again, only with more profoundness.“Her ye-.” I hold my stance, my hand stiff across my temple. “Emmeria Dyanthre, one of importance to the hand of the young Prince Sire, Caspen of Larkquieanst, is to gather at the front of the Grand-State Imperial Keep, meet with the Prince Sire, and to-” he pauses, and just stops. 

“Sir! Is that the end, or have you just ceased the message?”, I ask the rather questionable man. Without waiting for his response I let my arm fall to my side. It would be only dishonorable for him to cease a message without proper closure. There would have to be an explanation of some kind. I took a long breath out, relaxed my grip on the solid hilt of my sword and made eye contact with the young man. I raise my eyebrow, my thick, curly red hair shielding myself from his gaze. And yet, the young man does not pause to bring forth more of his chatter, he seemed to enjoy my lingering. 

“To meet with the Prince Sire and…” He rolled his eyes, “Emmeria would you please stop the ‘soldier’s’ stance?”

With that remark, the young man immediately crumpled up the letter, tossed it to his side and let go of his horse’s reins. He rested, not continuing to be the scrunched mass he was before. He began to unveil his face, reflections off the polished rings he wore shining in the sun. As I watched his perfectly sewn, lavish velvet-red shirt shifted in the light breeze.

I couldn’t do anything but stare;  _ oddly _ stare, whether it be the rings for which I recognized or the young man's striking looks and face. In true, dazed bafflement I stare, as well as in shock and a hint of the utmost exasperation. Then, breaking off from those prominent, crystal blue eyes of his, I came to the assumption that this is nothing more than a hassle.  _ Another  _ bloody and bold hassle from the Prince Sire of strife, taunt, and  _ divine  _ royalty, Caspen of Larkquieanst himself. 

I drew my thin silver sword out of the leather sheath, straight to the tip of his nose, the last of his mighty blue cloak silently dropped to the ground. Along with his one happy expression.

He slowly lifted up his hand to brush the long blond locks that covered his (contently) tear-filled eyes. He raised his hands into the air. Suddenly he released a loud and easily contagious laugh, stumbling forward until he collapsed onto me.

“You should have seen that look you had! Blessed be, you were shocked! Did you really think  _ I  _ was a little message boy? You’d gone mental then!”

He pulled away, hands still on my shoulders, taken aback from my stern face. He sighed matching my frown, “Don’t be mad, I was hoping you wouldn’t be. Hey? We haven't had a break in so long. One little mishap isn’t going to slaughter you much, dear, right?”

I rolled my eyes, which was not something of any kind an “Ethiain lady” like me would do in the presence of a 1st Imperial Class specimen like Caspen. In this case, I felt more than just obligated. I motioned to Caspen to release his grip off my shoulders with a flick of my hand and glanced from my left to my right at my fellow Ethiains that had eyed our whole engagement. 

The Ethiain civilians were more than scared, horrified and in disbelief. They would never get the sense in which Caspen thrived. Some of the Ethiains had even quickly risen from their bows, the minority returning to the position upon seeing who the cloaked ruckus was. Caspen raised his hands, waving them to the worried and peeved crowd.

“You’re fine, continue on!” he cheered. 

“We do little but bargain with our amusing personalities!” 

Caspen did one final wave to the dispersing crowd, beaming under the golden scorch of the sun. Each knew who he was, and each understood his stature in the GSIK society. They knew of him and the infamous ways he jokes outside of The Church’s watch, none the less sparsely punished. But none knew of Caspen as I had for the past years. 

“That wasn’t funny Caspen,” I mumbled, returning my sword to its sheath. I pulled the hood of my shirt over my head, I felt less than approved in these circumstances.

“That's Caspen of Larkquieanst for,  _ and  _ to you, Emmeria.” He said eyeing me. 

I quickly turned away from him, there was no reason for me to even try to suppress his capriciousness.

“I didn’t expect one of my few  _ cherished  _ free days to be spent being hassled by some bloke of a royal.” 

The look on Caspen’s face may have well sent a shudder down my spine. I  bit my lip, I could do nothing but regret what I had announced. Caspen  _ should _ have understood, work and travel were frequent in and outside of the Keep, one free day was beyond desirable for Apprentices. Incidents would remain frequent, tranquility and the ease the came from a restful day would not.  _ They _ would truly cease 

“Forget it.”

I rushed by Caspen, the only thing that stopped me from leaving, filling the golden streets was the chime that rang throughout the Keep. 

The Grand Bell, the one that reigned atop of The Church, chimed over the Keep. I froze, turned, and faced Caspen.“You know what that signals, Emmeria. We should go. Do you need a horse?” I hesitated at his words, and he noticed. “Here’s a different proposal, I will walk beside you.” I tilt my head, oddly suspicious of his proposal and maybe even compromise. 

Caspen sighed, “Okay then,  _ behind you _ . Is that better?” I nod. He hands the horse’s reins to me. Caspen begins to mutter something but soon stops. He knows I’d rather decline a response now, and after how I’d reacted, maybe forever. 

I mounted the horse, grabbed ahold of the reigns and began to lead it away. I wasn’t going too far without Caspen with me. That would be almost suicidal in every respect. I quietly turned to Caspen, he doesn’t try to look at me, preferring to glance around the absent Keep and its wooden structures. 

“Let us leave,” I say.

“Let us leave.” Caspen murmured in agreement, continuing a stride behind me and the steed. “I’m starting to enjoy the incidents more than the jokes; with little else. You know I mean no harm, no foul intentions.” He sighs, all I can do is imagine the pitty between us now. 

I kick the horse with the edge of my boot.

“Neither I, Caspen.” 

And with that one exchange, we remain in silence to The Church and Grand-State Imperial Keep. 

**⍉** **⍉** **⍉** **⍉** **⍉** **⍉** **⍉**

The infamous, tall, white marble spires standing still by the side of The Church casted deep, long shadows down onto me, Caspen, and the steed upon our arrival. The few strands of light let through the cracks and chips of the spires creating a pattern of small, pale circles around us. 

Ever so high atop The Church The Grand Bell sat, still. The loud chimes had stopped, though I could sense that another chime could soon be present. Like many other objects in the city, the sunlight reflected off The Grand Bell’s proud golden varnish, sending rays of light to every edge of the known land. I turned to Caspen who followed closely behind me. 

“Before we enter you should undoubtedly unmount the horse before my entry. No offense in the slightest Emmeria, you know how old fashion “they” tend to be.” He said, still very timid in the way he approached the issue. 

I obliged, it would be rather stupid than to seemingly disrespect The Church’s beliefs. In any case, I had been harsh and so trepid to Caspen that in even our dispute, I felt twinged with guilt. 

I handed Caspen the horses’ reins, got off the horse, and did my best to give him a genuine smile. Caspen stared at me, blank-faced as if questioning his motives for choosing me as his Apprentice, as if he was questioning whether I was faking a smile or I needed to scream. In truth, it did seem odd, for someone of such a high status like Caspen to choose a person of such heritance as I. I wasn’t a  _ “pure”  _ Ethiain like most here.

I was born outside of the Keep.

That one aspect of my upbringing caused so much strife from the “pure” Ethiains who roamed close by. It seemed as if I was “contaminated”, or as if I was something that wasn’t desired, and in the littlest of cases,  _ accepted _ . But, for some unknown reason, as Caspen would say, “Blessed be”, he didn’t think of my heritage as a disturbance, he treated me like I was a “pure” Ethiain. 

Like I was a  _ human _ . 

I had some manifested great pride in knowing I was welcomed by someone of his status, even if we argued more than two villainous warring kingdoms for a considerable amount of our time together. 

“I know you mean no harm, and I know you wish for no scrutiny on us, and between us,” Caspen said, chuckling. “But that ragged piece of hair sticking out of your head is claiming otherwise.” 

“Caspen!”, I yelled flustered, struggling to find my obscure piece of hair. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine! I need  _ you  _ to check  _ my  _ appearance for mistakes more than someone will  _ ever  _ have to do to you. Here.”

Caspen walked up to me, leaned over my left, and wrapped the disruptive, red curl around the end of my braid. He raised his hands in a thoughtful, yet energetic motion. 

“See! Nothing to worry, all good here!” 

I scoffed, “You-! Just turn around!” 

I look at the back of the velvet shirt, the white lines that presented the beautiful seams. “Even with all the ruckus you manage to do you still come out presentable, Caspen”, I laugh. I could tell that from the front he was beaming from my remark. 

“I appreciate your compliment, I am the Prince Sire after all.”

I jokingly smack his back, “There’s some mud on your boots”, I said continuing. “Please wipe that off before entry,  _ Prince Sire.”  _

“Will do!” Caspen chirped with a smile, beginning to wipe off the rough, tan discoloration upon noticing. 

After a brief pause, I looked once to The Church, to Caspen (hurrying to fix himself), to the steed that stood by his side and then to the Grand-State Imperial Keep that occupied close by. Soon I would once more be in the company of the structure, the people that remained inside, and the heathers that stayed without. Even though it came off as frank, and even rude, it was only a misconception that those of higher Imperial Class hated those of lesser classes. Caspen, for example, didn’t see people of lesser Imperial Classes as worse, punishable. Purity was more than a selfish reason for mistreatment here and those of higher Imperial Classes. Were subjugated from its views Yet, Caspen only saw people like that if they did not contribute to the GSIK as a whole, or if they dedicated their life for anything except  _ the  _ cause.

That cause was the adventures, the abundance of them completed by Sire’s and their Apprentices. Now, that was me and Caspen. Now,  _ we _ would receive our request, either grand or subsequent, and begin dispatch, differentiated from the rest. 

“Are you ready to enter  _ ‘soldier’ _ Emmeria”, Caspen laughed, now fully mounted onto the horse, looking as presentable and as well-sought as any noble of his status would. 

I smiled, he responded just the same. 

His tranquil tone and expression were even more than supplementary to my emotions.

“As ready as ever.” I sighed refocusing myself on the task at hand, “If you are prepared!” I chuckled, I couldn’t not. I sounded too serious and too steadfast and too tenacious. Which truthfully didn’t fit me, or Caspen. 

Entering the depths of the columns surrounding the distinguished structure, I persisted to the entrance of The Church. To my right Caspen sat steadily mounted atop the steed, looking more proud of himself than I thought I would ever see him.

There I stood, the Apprentice to his noble Prince Sire of Larkquieanst, and Caspen, my trickster-comedian friend, a  _ partner _ in accompaniment, inexplicably elated by my side. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
